camp DO YOU EVER FEEL LIKE A ☣︎ PLASTIC BAG

[Mintshade]

The winds were picking up at an alarming rate and she could not help but feel terrible overwhelmed out on the moors by it. It was not quite strong enough to disuade her from hunting entirely but it had certainly ruined her chasing on occasion and she'd been left stumbling along after a rabbit who was alerted early to her presence by the sudden shift in direction; it was a little annoying. Mintshade had just returned from one such outing, fur ruffled and bristling in annoyance with only a single mouse she had nearly stepped on during her frenzied run after a swift hare; as much as it had pained her to do so she grabbed it and let the other escape, knowing she'd not be able to get to it before it hit its burrow. A mouse was better than nothing but as she dropped it on the freshkill pile she did so with little ceremony or flair and trotted away from it heavy footed and head lifted high. Suppose she ought to figure out if there was anything she could help with before going off on a whim for her own interests, but when she glanced around camp she didn't spot a single authority figure. It was a sign, it was a sign if she had ever seen one that what she deserved most in the world right now was a good stretched and a moment to roll in the grass unbothered and she pivoted about with a spin to try and find herself a good spot to get a nice rolling back scratch going. It was then she caught the sight of something bright white darting into the camp out of the corner of one acid green eye, rolling over the bramble wall and tumbling down directly for her before she had even a moment to realize what it was.
The bag hit her in the face, ensnared her entire head in its crinkling, plastic grip, and she stumbled back onto her hindlegs with a muffled yowl of alarm; assaulted by two-leg trash in her own home! Mintshade fell back, twisting about and writhing on the ground with long black limbs flailing and body thrashing as she fought to free herself from the obstruction, a long series of just barely coherent swearing and curses sputtered out and emphasized with the rustle of the sheeting plastered over her face.

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[Badgermoon]

The intensifying wind was troublesome enough on its own: that it had been bringing unwelcome gifts of Twoleg garbage was even worse. Badgermoon was in the process of rasping his tongue along his forelegs, attempting to clean the windblown dirt from his fur, when a sudden flash of unnatural white and a cacophony of snarls and spits erupted from elsewhere in camp. He sprang up in surprise, his mind jumping immediately to some sort of RiverClan or ShadowClan invasion - but, no, no such thing. Only the reek of Twolegs and a by-now familiar crinkling sound. "Not one of these again." lamented the deputy, trotting towards Mintshade - though, admittedly, without much haste. The black she-cat didn't appear to be in much danger, and StarClan knew she might take offense to his attempts to assist, somehow. Upon reaching her, he'd unsheathe his claws and attempt to slice through the plastic, hoping to free her from her rank, rustling prison.​

 

[RATTLEHEART]

The wind, as annoying as it truly was for the whole of Windclan to deal with, at least didn't affect Rattleheart much when he was below ground. He had never regretted becoming a tunneler over a moor runner - as annoying as his slim stature could be at times, like in the middle of a battle - but he especially didn't regret it these days. While far from unaffected by the furious winds roaring above them, at least they were having a little more success with hunting than moor runners like Mintshade seemed to have been having.

It was because of these difficulties that Rattleheart let out an impressed purr from deep in his chest when Mintshade trotted into camp, depositing a mouse on the freshkill pile. It may not have been the most impressive catch in the world, but every new piece of prey helped with the many mouths to feed within a clan being buffeted by an unforgiving gale. He certainly wasn't about to be the one to tattle on her for taking a moment to relax afterwards, especially considering his own position destressing in camp. His tail was snug and secure around him as he laid nearby, jaws opening to congratulate Mintshade on her kill before she was properly gone to the rest of them. Only he didn't get as far as that, watching as a lump of white plastic collided with her face and brought her down to the ground.

Had he been a nicer tom, with more self control, perhaps he would've immediately leaped into action in order to help her. Instead, though, he found himself dissolving into sputtering laughter, lungs aching as he cackled away at Mintshade's expense. There was a little guilt involved when he finally got control of himself once more, although not enough to wipe the crooked smile from his muzzle as he approached alongside Badgermoon. "That was quite the show... what do the Twolegs even use these for, anyways?" As much as he stared at the lump of trash, he couldn't really make heads or tails of it. The coloration sort of reminded him of cobwebs when they were laid on top of each other over a wound, but he couldn't imagine something like this being used to heal.
​

[ PENNED BY EO ]​

 

[WOLFSONG]

──⇌•〘 INFO 〙 Perhaps Wolfsong should feel ashamed for watching Mintshade struggle with the twoleg's thin-cloud, but in truth, he enjoyed the sight unabashedly. Her dark form enveloped by white film, kicking against her flimsy cage and failing to free herself— there is some satisfaction there. It is short-lived given Badgermoon does not share Wolfsong's misgivings about Mintshade, and he approaches the deputy and Rattleheart after he's cut through the contraption.

It hasn't escaped his notice that the tunneler's gaze is bright with mirth, nor that the wind had carried part of his laughter. Perhaps he is less fond of Mintshade as well, or perhaps he would have laughed regardless of the cat.

"SkyClan may know," he answers with a sharp twist to his mouth. "They do not seem to mind the twolegs as much as they should." His gaze drifts down to Mintshade. "I am surprised it could contain you at all, dear Mintshade."
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[LAMBCURL.]

Lambcurl spots it– The outlier, wind - blown, pale sheet over the head of their darkest warrior. Lambcurl cranes his neck as Badgermoon strides forward; listens close– as Lambcurl hinges on his every word, nose twitching and glassy eyes half - open. Oh, " Again? " he echoes. Such a thing seemed memorable, and then it occurs to him just how time passes within the tunnels... No, he wasn't so zealous as to think himself all - knowing. Listening is how he learns, and listening is how he learns now.

Curled claws split it open, and it is free to drift again. Now crippled, it did not sway with such vivacityas before... As it tumbles toward him, Lambcurl does not refrain from batting with pale paws. It's crunch is a strange thing, and something he craves more of. Paws step on in off in some sort of dance. Immensely, he is satisfied in a way that he cannot name. Theories passed around... What for, they wonder. What for? " Joy, " he offers in a murmur, eyes crinkling at the edges. The bat of a paw would bring the thing whisking to the others. Only for a moment, does he mourn the loss. But a gift, he considers it. And a gift he would more than give to the likes of these some.

〖 OOC 𓆩ꕥ𓆪 NOTES 〗

• —
  
•  
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  LAMBCURL: HE / HIM , CISGENDER MALE ; GAY & SINGLE, IN LOVE WITH EVERYBODY TBH ; TUNNELER OF WINDCLAN ; 42 MOONS
  
  tiny, curly - furred albino tom with teary pink eyes. ; dreamy – eyed and dreamy – minded, Lambcurl drags himself across the land with an ever-present smile and glassy bug eyes. Deeply honored to hold his position as a tunneler and whisperingly reverent with everything he does. Somewhat unnerving in ideals and the way he speaks, but he means well.
  — tentative voice claim: fox mulder
  

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[Littlepaw]

Littlekit had never seen such a monster. What was that thing...Why was it trying to eat Mintshade? Was it some kind of bug? A funny plant? A cloud?? He had no idea All he knew was that Mintshade was under attack. He puffed up and drew his claws. He has to help her!! He rushes forward, swiping at the plastic bag while trying not to hit Mintshade in the face as well. The other adults other than Badgermoon didn't seem to be doing anything and he wondered if it wasn't actually a big deal, but WHATEVER!!

"GET OFF MINTSHADE YOU MONSTER!!!" He squealed, tearing into the accursed beast. It never stood a chance. He was too GREAT AND POWERFUL.​